Grief


  • ICC

    PC-Grief

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    The young man sat up quickly in his bunk cursing. –That- dream again. Rubbing his face briskly with both hands, it took a moment for him to register the exaggerated cant to his room. The Lantern hung from the ceiling floated surrealistically sideways. Cries from the deck and lower areas came to his ears.

    I quashed the first fleeting moment of panic. I’m not sure if I picked up that talent from the War Wizard training, or from the last few years being pet wizard to this raggedy bunch of mercs. Either way, you could have a book full of the flashiest spells this side of Waterdeep….and it won’t mean shite if your soiling your britches in a dark hole somewhere.

    My cabin was a few steps from the door. Within a minute I had been on deck and back into my cabin. My most precious possession was always at my side, I grabbed the latest wand I had been working on, a few scrolls….and the half years salary I had stashed away. Anger and frustration nearly broke my forced calm. My cabin had been packed floor to ceiling with chests of apparatus and precious study books. Three years of very profitable service had allowed me to stock my own small lab…and all of it would be at the bottom of the sea in a few more minutes.

    Cursing I fled topside, with a few others. Panic was near total, men scrambling everywhere. I had no clue why we were sinking, or how, and at the time it wasn’t the top of my priorities. Which were…getting the fark out of here safely, and a close second, getting some of my brothers out too.

    Though it was still dark, in the distance I made out what should be land. The ships boats were launched already (Experience has taught me nothing outside wakes me when I have –that- dream) I’d almost slept long enough to never wake. The waters too frigid for anyone in them to make the swim to shore.

    I started tossing cold protections on the brothers I could spot in the dark, hopefully they’d make the shore or a debris float of some kind before the spells faded. I reached into my coat for the scroll I’d carried since back when I was still official. A moments pause as I watched a longboat with only three people in it…the captain and his mates. They were using the oars to keep men away from their boat. I don’t give in to emotion much…but I do find satisfaction occasionally in spiteful outbursts. It’s a guilty pleasure.

    Taking a pinch of sand from one of my many pockets I pointed at the Captain, sprinkling the sand and traveling my will over him and his two mates. They slumped over, sleeping.

    The lap of Breathstealing cold water over my boots brought me back to the task at hand. I had exhausted my protections on my Brothers, banking my stake on the scroll in hand.

    One eye fixed on the dark mass of land, the rest of myself pouring into the arcane formula’s on the scroll. My training held as water rushed over my thighs, I felt myself freed from everything, for a fleeting moment knew the joy of just existing as energy, before smacking back to perception, on a cold beech. I couldn’t make out anything in the waters, but thought maybe I could here distant mens shouts. Pushing the cold frustration down inside I turned, exhausted. I had done all I could, a long journey North, and bearing ill news as I went.

    Though exhausted and freezing, I warmed up a little…right before I had teleported I was sure I recognized a few brothers pulling themselves into the captains boat, and slipping the three sleeping men over the side.

    We take care of each other, and damn anyone who gets in our way.


  • ICC

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